Confrontations and Confessions
by Raven Dancer
Summary: Precedes 'The First Path In'. An exploration of Dumbledore's and Snape's relationship.
1. Confrontations and Confessions 1/2

Confrontations and Confessions part 1/2  
  
By Raven Dancer  
  
disclaimer: Everyone belongs to Rowling, probably even the old drunken wizard at the Leaky Cauldron. I'm just taking them out for a bit of angst, hurt and comfort.  
  
  
  
Three days. Three incredibly long days waiting for Snape to reappear.   
  
Three days of denials from the Ministry.  
  
Yes, they had aurors report seeing him. No, he had not been brought into the offices. Yes, he could have been hurt. Of course each agent had been briefed on Snape's role and would never have harmed him. Permanently, anyway. Yes, they'd check with each of the agents present again.  
  
Couldn't ask the other death eaters captured from the mission. They were in Azkaban, already cross-examined and cleansed. No point after the Dementor's kiss to ask them about anything.  
So another line of inquiry. He'd traveled to the Leaky Cauldron and checked the unofficial line. There were inconsistencies; most of them planted by the Ministry itself to protect their aurors. Of course, Snape benefited from them, too. 4 Death Eaters caught (actually 6, not counting Snape). All four sent to the Dementors. (again, 6.) Then a little niggle of a whisper that the Ministry had added an auror to the squad. A little favor for an old friend. He bought a few more beers, a couple judicious shots of whisky. A name, just a name. Any idea who?   
  
Well, the bloodshot eyes looked edgy, not too sure, but he'd heard the blighter had the weirdest eyes.   
  
(Ah, Mad Eye.  
Mad Eye Moody.)  
  
A small handful of galleons to Tom assured a room and food for a couple days for the old wizard who sat and listened and drank to forget.  
  
He tried not to feel bitter. Alastor Moody had been an old friend. A friend he'd protected when his excesses nearly cost him his job. Promises extracted to treat his prisoners fairly and returned to the Ministry immediately.   
  
And as far as it concerned Snape, he was suppose to keep his hands off. Snape was above suspicion from the highest sources, although very, very few knew much at all. Most of the junior Aurors knew he was always allowed to escape, not to actually capture him unless there was no other way to prevent his immediate death.   
  
The older Aurors knew they didn't have to let Snape escape. He could get away fairly effectively himself. Although he sometimes took a potential prisoner with him. Sometimes a few wounds or hexes he didn't really want. Snape was cunning, but on their side. That was enough for them. Knowing too much could actually be worse.  
  
The Senior Aurors were slightly split. Most would express admiration if allowed, but usually cursed him viciously to keep up appearances. A less than a handful hated him as a traitor of the highest order. A evil necessity.   
  
Alastor Moody fell into that last group. Even with all of the assurances that could be given, from veratiserum to pensieves, nothing would assuage Moody's belief Snape was best off dead. Although he had promised he would not harm him if their paths crossed, that he would, indeed, leave him able to continue his services for the Ministry. That he would return him immediately to Dumbledore himself if found, injured, hurt or worse.  
  
One would think immediately was a rather succinct word. One that meant right away or this instant. One would. Moody would not.  
  
  
There was a scraping across the floor as the voice called out  
What do you want? the voice grated harsh with anger.  
  
I believe you have something of mine, a voice returned evenly.  
  
The door opened quickly revealing Mad Eye Moody in all his glory. His magical and normal eye fixed on the visitor trying to gauge his emotions. How does one read a stone wall?  
  
Well, well, Albus Dumbledore! What a delightful surprise.  
Dumbledore pushed the door wider and walked into the living room filled with gadgets spinning and humming.  
  
I doubt both greatly, Alastor.  
He turned abruptly and stood nose to nose with the nervous man. Moody had over-stepped every boundary this time. Moody was very aware he'd done so.  
  
I would like Snape. Now.  
  
I'll just fetch him for you, Moody said cheerfully.  
  
Let's go fetch him' together, Alastor. See how you respect   
my friendship. ACCIO WAND, and much to Moody's displeasure his wand flew into Dumbledore's open hand.  
  
He's downstairs relaxin' Moody's tone turned sullen.  
  
Imagine. Guest rooms down in the basement, the sarcasm was not wasted as the man twitched.  
  
Dumbledore did not believe for one second Snape was safe or unharmed. He had to steady his resolve once more and push his anger down. Descending the stairs his nose was assaulted by wet, foul smells. He was glad he hadn't eaten recently.  
  
Lovely ambiance, Alastor, his voice low and dangerous. Grunting, Moody flipped on the overly bright overhead light. Seeing his Potions Master Dumbledore once more moved his wand.  
  
Bindus Totalis he spat out and watched the Auror fall helpless at his feet. A second sweep and the body was sent with a dull into the wall. Dumbledore approached Snape.  
  
He was bound kneeling, leaning against the moldy wall, stripped to his shorts. Damp. Shivering. Cautiously Dumbledore approached  
he asked gently  
  
a harsh voice, exhausted, on the verge of hysteria. Desperate eyes searching through matted hair. He was filthy, looked as though he'd been in that place, that position, for the entire three days.  
  
Yes, Severus, soothing voice, he pointed the spell at Snape .  
and watched the bulk of the filth disappear as he knelt by his friend.   
  
I have the distinct feeling Mr. Moody does not like me, Albus,  
Snape managed, his mouth so dry it had trouble making all the sounds required.  
  
I believe you're right, Dumbledore agreed, touching him lightly, seeing the flinch that the bound man tried desperately to control.  
  
I'm sorry, Albus, Snape whispered, shutting his eyes in shame.  
Hands gently ran across his face, down his head, lingered on his shoulder, as Dumbledore eyed the non-magical binders that bit into the flesh. The blood was fairly dry, but new oozed out in two places.  
  
You've done nothing wrong, Severus, and he unfastened the first set of binders on his arms. He immediately began to rub the severely abused muscles as Snape sharply drew in his breath and struggled not to whimper.  
  
Do you want to sleep? Dumbledore asked kindly, continuing to rub and massage down each arm, carefully uncurling clenched, icy fingers. He breathed warmth onto the tips waking up the circulation.  
  
Snape hissed in pain and relief, breakfast and dinner has consisted of veratiserum and some sort of stay-awake potion. He moaned and twitched violently as Dumbledore began to release his legs.  
  
Haven't slept for a couple days, he groaned between clenched teeth.  
  
Leaning completely helpless against the filthy wall, Snape watched through slitted eyes as his thighs and calves were kneaded. Carefully his feet were flexed and his knees straightened. They were raw, bloody and swollen.  
  
oh shitshitshit, he managed.  
  
Why the veratiserum? Dumbledore asked.  
  
He wanted to know everything I knew, he creakily laughed.  
I know so very little. Did you know that?  
  
Is the serum still working? Dumbledore glanced at the trembling man.  
  
he replied flatly.  
  
How much? When? he pursued.  
  
Six drops this morning. Five before. Five before that. Four  
the first day. Twice. He twitched and chewed his lip.  
You know, the thing about veratiserum? Too much and the   
person will kill himself if he doesn't have an answer. That's  
why they have to be bound. He was speaking more easily and Dumbledore grimaced at the blood flowing from the torn lip.  
  
he spoke the name with such warmth, such love, that the man stopped chewing immediately and looked into the clear blue eyes. He was wrapped in the soft folds of Dumbledore's cloak, into his arms, rocked without shame. Words spilled out of the hysterical man faster than Dumbledore thought possible fired by the serum's imperative to divulge:  
  
He brought me here after the raid; I was stupified early on. He  
bound me and made me kneel the entire time. If I fell over  
he'd upright me. I've fouled myself because he wouldn't let me  
up even for the loo. He threw buckets full of cold water on me several times. He kept asking me about Voldemort, if there were any more raids planned. He wanted to know who my friends were in Voldemort's circle. About my lovers. He asked about friends outside ofthe Death Eaters. Who I loved, who I wanted. He asked and asked and asked. He got very angry with me and kept accusing me of fighting the serum. So he added the no-sleep draught. I can't sleep, Albus. I can't. I'm so bloody tired and I can't sleep.  
  
Dumbledore pulled him up closer, hushing him, continuing to rock and beginning to sing to him, forcing him to focus only on him and nothing else. Finally the rigid body went limp into the warmth, into the affection. Tears flowed slowly down cheeks and soaked into the Headmaster's robe.   
  
Relax, Severus. It will wear off, it must since he's given it to  
you a couple of times. I'll take you home, Severus, home. You can  
have a nice hot soak in the tub and something comforting to eat.  
Then you can just lie in my bed piled high with blankets and quilts  
until you fall asleep. You will sleep, just be calm. Listen to me.  
The tiniest movement as Snape listened to the older man's heartbeat.  
  
I'm thirsty, came the whisper.  
  
I know, child, Dumbledore whispered back. But I don't trust  
anything here. He felt Snape's fingers flex, rubbing his robes.  
I'll levitate you.  
  
There were no clothes except a sodden mass of black cloth that had been robes. Dumbledore carefully fastened the clasps of his cloak he'd put on Snape. The Potions Master snuggled into the soft lining. He was levitated and as they moved up the cellar steps the older wizard stopped and turned.  
  
Alastor, thank you so much for caring for Severus. Don't  
bother getting up, I'll find the door. Dumbledore left the Auror bound in the damp corner. He shut the door and charmed it against danger. Continued with his precious bundle out the front door. Locked that and placed another charm on it, too.  
  
We'll just have to remember to send an owl to the Ministry  
when we get back to Hogwarts, Severus.  
  
  
-----------------------------------------


	2. Confrontations and Confessions 2/2

Confrontations and Confessions part 2/2  
  
By Raven Dancer  
  
  
Dumbledore apparated them back into his rooms. He had left off the single ward charm to go and return. Dangerous, but not terribly so. There were plenty of other guards in place. With a few words and a bit of a wanding, the ward charm was securely back. Sometimes being an old, devious wizard had its benefits.  
  
Bath, Severus? he asked kindly.  
  
Lavatory first, Snape managed, and a drink of water.   
Dumbledore started him into the washroom and rang a small, silver bell. Dobby was there before he'd set it down.  
  
Iced juice, water, tea, soup. Nothing spicy. Maybe barley?   
Fresh bread, cheese, some pudding. Tapioca? Bring the   
juice and water directly into me. You can leave the rest   
by the bed. Thank you!  
Dobby bowed and zipped out leaving Dumbledore to assist Snape. When the man tried to apologize for being so troublesome he stopped him.  
  
Severus, let me take care of you. I do remember how.  
The man sighed and allowed him to touch him as needed.  
  
I am very glad you remember. I just wish you didn't have to.  
Once flushed, he was stripped and placed into the empty tub. A scurry at the door announced Dobby's return.   
  
Slowly now, Severus. Some water, he made sure the parched man took a few small sips.  
Once I clean you I'll give you some cool juice, he smiled.  
  
soft reply.  
  
You are filthy, Dumbledore remarked wryly.  
  
And your first clue was? Snape retorted in kind.  
Dumbledore pulled down the shower head and turned on the water, adjusting the temperature. Snape made an ineffective grab for the sponge, missing it completely.  
  
Just relax, Severus.  
  
He sighed, exhausted, sitting quietly while the older man began spraying the warm water over his skin. Thoroughly wetted, the nozzle was returned to the bracket and the sponge was well lathered.   
  
He began scrubbing his torso, back, then chest and upper arms were subjected to the soap. Setting the sponge aside, Dumbledore rinsed the first gray bubbles away.  
  
My, you are rather dirty, aren't you Professor Snape? a cheerful voice sounded from the doorway.   
  
Lupin, a pleasure as always, Snape gritted.  
  
I see the veratiserum has worn off, Dumbledore joked, rinsing the sponge for round two.  
  
Actually, no it hasn't, Snape was forced to answer.   
Contrary to my normal retorts, it is a pleasure. He closed his eyes against a personal insight he never intended to share. Lupin looked at him curiously and moved closer to the tub.   
  
Let's get that hair of yours, Severus. Greasy is one thing, this is entirely different, Lupin gentled shampoo into the matted, filthy mass. The sponge began working on lower arms, pits, and stomach.  
  
I always felt you liked me, Sevvy. Don't ask me why! gods, I  
remember you destroying my homework in potions! It burst into  
flame and I had detention for a week. But even though you did  
that and more, I always felt you wanted to be friends, Lupin chuckled at the memory.  
  
I didn't do that, he said flatly.   
Lupin snorted,   
  
Ok, now it's worn off!   
But Dumbledore looked at the man's face, reached out and held the mouth.  
Severus! Stop that! Blood once more flowed from the torn lips.  
  
I'm not lying. I'm not! Lupin was surprised by the edge of hysteria.  
I didn't. Black did. I tried to stop the incantation but I couldn't. All I could do was sit with my mouth open and your hurt eyes on my face.  
  
Lupin was completely taken aback. Sirius had done that? He desperately wanted to ask more questions but a glare from Dumbledore stopped him. He resumed washing, gently massaging the twitching scalp.  
  
I believe you, Severus. I do. Just let me finish this and get some detangler. I'd hate to have to cut this hair.   
Using the hand nozzle, Lupin rinsed the soap out and added more, making sure the lather was all white. Dumbledore had finished the accessible parts and waited until Snape could lean back. He nearly sent Lupin away, but as the sponge worked on more delicate areas it was good to have a second pair of hands to hold the weakened man.  
  
Again the lather was rinsed away and clean skin showed through. They carefully arranged him in the tub, reclining with a clean towel behind his neck for padding. The taps were turned on and water swirled into the tub.   
  
Oh, that's lovely, sighed Snape, relaxing into the heat. Lupin quietly sat behind the tub and worked on the tangled mass of hair. Dumbledore brought a cup of juice towards Snape.   
  
This will probably sting, he said apologetically, holding out the straw. A strangled moan of pleasure rose as Snape pulled in some iced juice. His stomach growled as it pounced on the fruit sugar.  
  
Dobby's brought up some lunch for you, too, Dumbledore smiled at the pleasure on Snape's face.   
Once you're done with the soak we'll move you into the bedroom.  
  
Severus only nodded slightly and allowed his twitching body to relax into the blessed heat. Lupin finished teasing out several large wads of hair, finally able to bring the comb from scalp to hair's end. Dumbledore proffered some hair ties; it was pulled back loosely then braided.  
  
He managed twenty minutes before his stomach began to protest loudly. Water was zapped away, body levitated to make it easier to dry. Lupin dried the long planes of his back, rubbing bunched muscles.   
  
Still floating, Dumbledore pulled out a large tube and squeezed out a handful, then passed it to Lupin. Snape glowered.  
  
What are you up to, Dumbledore? he growled ineffectively.  
  
Just a little something for the skin and muscles, Dumbledore smiled mischievously. He knelt to work on thighs, calves and feet while Lupin continued to minister the back and arms. A separate salve was gently put on raw, bruised knees.   
Each large muscle group quivered under the application of the potion, then went quietly limp and relaxed. Leggings were pulled on, sleep shirt pulled over and then the entire package was bundled into the bedroom. He was not tired, not sleepy, but his entire body was profoundly lax and not listening to his impulses to move much at all.  
  
They put him sitting up on the bed, pillowed and draped a towel about his chest and lap for spills. Lupin returned to clean up the washroom while Dumbledore gathered the lunch together and fed Snape.  
  
I think I could drink half the lake, Snape said as he took another long sip of water.  
  
No doubt, Dumbledore replied, now proffering thickly buttered bread with sliced cheese. He gently bit and chewed, eyes flicking around the room reassuring himself he was really safe. Settled on his Headmaster who was cutting up melon into smaller pieces.  
  
You're enjoying yourself, he said without emotion. An observation.  
  
the older man easily agreed. He began to bring a forkful of cantaloupe up to the other's mouth.  
  
But it's all a nuisance, taking care of me. I'm nothing. You  
could have just left me for Pomfrey, hurt eyes shut.  
  
What has Alastor been telling you, Professor Snape? the smile was very apparent in his voice, but flinch on his companion's face spoke volumes.  
  
Open, a little wider, ahhhhhh, Snape angrily opened wide as a cavern, teeth clattered against the fork as the melon went in to be thoroughly chewed into juice.  
  
He just told me about my place, that's all. My stinking place.  
My, my... and he had to stop or suffer the further indignity of tears. It hurt too much to repeat the filth that had been drummed into him over 70 hours of charms and serums and dark and light. Even lies started to sound true and cast suspicion over his life. Veratiserum seemed to have that effect in the long run; you had to believe the lies and repeat them as truth or you'd tear yourself up.   
  
Dumbledore looked at the wreck of a man; not just lips and knees had been shredded. He carefully set dish and silverware down.  
  
Just a minute, Severus, he said softly, running a comforting hand over his forehead. He went to the door and sought out Lupin. A few words and the Defense against the Dark Arts professor left for the afternoon. A charm on the door and he turned back to the bedroom.  
  
Veratiserum alone was powerful, controlling, leaving no room for lies or inconsistencies. When used at a higher dose, it added an element of paranoia and of hysteria. Coupled with Snape's tightrope of an existence, between light and dark, heaven and hell, it could be crippling. Snape had always taken such solace in Dumbledore's complete trust. His anchor to reality. Now Moody had done his damnedest to tear it down. The inability to sleep just about capped it.  
  
Slowly he approached the silent man, by all appearances asleep. Except for the thin line of a tear tracing his face. For a moment Albus cursed himself for telling Lupin to send the owl to the ministry to release the auror. It wasn't right to leave Moody vulnerable like that, but it felt _good_.  
  
Dropping his robes to the floor he circled around to the other side of the bed and crawled in, shirt and leggings would be fine. He levitated his companion and snugged in tight so he became the pillows to hold him up.  
  
Soft strokes across his face and shoulders, a lightly brushed kiss on the hair.   
  
You need to eat a little more, Severus. And drink a lot  
more, he said gently. He waved the mug of juice over and pressed the straw to his lips which trembled, but opened and slowly drew in the cool liquid. Some cheese slipped in, a little more bread. Fruit. Juice. Water. Dumbledore filled him with all he could hold.   
  
Then he settled them both into bed, the younger man's head under his chin, on his chest, so he could hear the lungs expand, contract, the heart beat faithfully, feel the hand rubbing gentle circles up and down his back.  
  
Snape never was quite sure of their relationship. Not truly lovers since they'd never gone one step further into the sexual domain. But they were certainly intimate; Dumbledore knew every inch of him emotionally and physically and he'd gotten a good sense of the older man too, over the long years together. He knew they worried about each other, especially Dumbledore when Snape was on a mission. With good reason. Half the time he came back hurt and required tending. Dumbledore always took care of him.  
  
At the moment he really didn't care what they were to one another. He was safe, with the only person who trusted him, loved him. That was all that mattered.  



End file.
